


Façade

by libbertyjibbit



Series: TMA October Prompt Fills [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Incest, Incest Kink, M/M, Memories, Roleplay, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libbertyjibbit/pseuds/libbertyjibbit
Summary: Tim indulges in some fond and not so fond memories, with a little help.
Relationships: Danny Stoker/Tim Stoker, Elias Bouchard/Tim Stoker
Series: TMA October Prompt Fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949629
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33





	Façade

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 4 of Kinktober - Incest

Tim’s cheek presses painfully into the desk beneath him, but he hardly notices. His entire body is on fire, lit up with sensation, every nerve tingling with pleasure as the man behind him moves, cock rubbing up against his prostate with every thrust. It’s not the cock, though. Not how good it feels inside him, how thick and perfect. It’s not the hands – a little smaller than he remembers but just as strong – holding him down, one on the side of his head and the other around his wrists, pinning him. It’s not the kisses and nips being placed on his exposed neck and back. It isn’t even the voice – the beautiful, beloved voice that he’d been sure he’d never hear again – or not quite. The voice isn’t the same – it’s too smooth, too polished to sound like the one Tim loved so well – but the things it says are the same, are perfect, and Tim can’t help but let them carry him along with them.

“That’s it. That’s so good, Tim. But you were always so good, weren’t you? Remember your first year at uni? Your dorm room? Your roommate wasn’t there, not on holidays, and I’d have you just like this. Keep you on edge for as long as I wanted, fucking you until you were begging. Do you remember?”

“Yes,” Tim says on a moan. He remembers. The cheap sheets scratching against his face, his chest. His cock, leaking precome, rubbing against the bed. And behind him his brother, bigger than him, stronger, holding him down just like this, fucking him just like this and making him beg.

The weight against his back increases and that beloved voice pours into his ears. “You know what to do if you want me to keep going.”

“Please,” Tim says instantly. “Please, more, I want – more. Please, Danny, please.”

“That’s it,” Danny says, and does as Tim asks. His hips thrust harder, faster, ramming Tim into the table, and it hurts but Tim relishes the pain. Relishes the bruises he can feel forming on his wrists and hips. He wants them there, wants the world to know who he belongs to. Who he’s always belonged to.

“Remember your first flat? That thing was so dingy; everything looked gray. I was half-afraid you’d start to go gray too, or get sick – there had to be mould somewhere, that place was a hole. But it was worth, it, wasn’t it? Not to have to share with anyone. Not to have to worry that they might suddenly return home when I was fucking you on the sofa. Even if they didn’t know we were brothers I didn’t want anyone to see you that way. Your desperation, your pleasure. It was for me. It was always for me.”

“Yes,” Tim says. It’s the only word he can say. Of course it was all for Danny; everything he is has been for him for years, longer. So long that Tim can barely remember a time when he didn’t belong to him. Whatever Danny wants he can have. _Anything, anything_.

“Of course it is.” Danny says, and bites his earlobe. Tim shudders and moans, grinding himself onto Danny’s cock and rocking back and forth, rubbing his own hard cock into the edge of the desk. It hurts but he needs it, needs the pressure or he feels he’ll go mad. Danny’s hand tightens on his wrists, grinding the bones together, and Tim moans again. “But then you stopped. You quit letting me have you. Why did you do that, Tim?”

Tim doesn’t answer. He’s shaking, so close to flying apart but he knows that Danny won't let him. That’s not the way this works. Tim won't get to come until Danny's good and ready to let him.

Danny stops. Stops moving, stops breathing it feels like. He waits, body a heavy weight on top of Tim’s, for him to speak. _Tell me_.

Tim closes his eyes against the sting of tears. “You wouldn’t – I was – it was too much. Someone was going to find out, and you –“

“Yes. You were sullying me. The big, bad older brother taking advantage of his malleable younger sibling. Is that what it was?”

Tim draws in a trembling breath. “It wasn’t good for you,” he says, voice raw and wounded. Same thing he’d said before, long ago. Words he’d meant; words that Danny had swatted away like annoying flies. So Tim had said other words. Crueler words. Words that would reach deep inside of his brother and twist, stinging. Words that he knew would make Danny want to leave, and to stay away.

“You wanted me to have a life without you,” Danny says, and Tim ekes out a barely there yes, the word plaintive. He only wanted what was best for Danny, and that could never be with him. No matter how much Tim wanted him, he’d had to let him go. Had to let him –

“I did, you know. Have that life you were so concerned I live. Would you like to know about them, Tim? The others. How much they loved it when I fucked them? Do you want to know how hard I came? How I-“

Something hot and furious explodes in Tim’s chest and he begins to fight for the first time, struggling against Danny’s hold as he hisses a “no” that is all bitter, twisted jealousy.

Danny easily shoves him back down, huffing a light laugh into his ear. “No? But you wanted me to live, you said.” His hips start moving again, harder than ever, fairly ramming him into the desk. Tim groans low in his throat and pushes up onto his toes, welcoming it. Danny’s hand slips into his hair and yanks his head off of the desk, forcing him to arch his neck. Tim moans, and Danny leans even closer to hiss his next words directly into his ear.

“I thought of you. Every man, every woman I had, I imagined it was you beneath me, you coming apart on my cock. Always you. Every time I visited I listened to you fuck your own fist and wished you’d just give in, just let me have you again the way we both wanted. But you never did. And now here we are.” He lets go of Tim’s hair and wraps his hand around his cock, stroking him fast and hard in time with the motion of his hips. “Does it help?” he asks, and Tim sobs. “Knowing all of this. Do you feel absolved? Or does it hurt all the more, knowing what you could have had?” The laugh he gives is harsh. “Don’t answer. I know.”

Tim tosses his head, entire body tensing as the pleasure spirals up and up and then breaks, cresting over him in waves almost too powerful to take. He shakes apart, tears trailing from his cheeks and his brother’s name on his lips, and seconds after he feels the cock inside him twitch, warmth spreading as a loud groan echoes in his ear.

He pulls away from Tim soon after, releasing his hands at the same time that the weight disappears from his body. Tim winces when the cock slides out of his arse; now that he’s not distracted he feels just how roughly he’s been used. He pushes away from the desk and pulls his trousers up with shaking hands, then stands where he is, head bowed. Now that it's over shame washes through him, making him feel sick, dirty. _Pathetic_.

“Don't be rude, Tim. What do you say?”

Tim winces again. He turns slowly and faces the man behind him. “Thank you,” he says, forcing the words through gritted teeth. His stomach rolls.

Elias smiles. “There we go,” he says. “You're most welcome. Now, you really must excuse me. This lasted rather longer than I expected, and I have much to do.” He moves around the desk that he’d just bent Tim over and turns on his computer, effectively dismissing him.

Tim curls his hands into fists and leaves the room, telling himself that this is the last time. He can't keep doing this, can't keep seeking Elias out letting him in, playing at fucking his dead brother. It's sick, wrong. Elias isn't Danny, will never be Danny, and there’s no way to know if he's even telling the truth when he says the things he does. For all Tim knows his brother died hating him as much as he did when Tim finally ended things. Doing this only gives Elias more power over him than he already has; Tim needs to stop it before it spins even further out of control.

That's what he tells himself. But he knows, deep down in the places where he doesn't like to look too hard, that sooner or later he'll be back here.

It's the closest he'll ever get to having what he really wants.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked, please let me know.


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